


Marked for Death

by b99xperaltiago



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-08-01 03:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16276913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b99xperaltiago/pseuds/b99xperaltiago
Summary: Innocently checking voicemails becomes terrifying when Jake comes across an old one he must have missed. A death threat from an old prison foe. A death threat scheduled for that exact date.





	Marked for Death

"Jake, your message alert on your phone has been blinking for days, can you please check your messages!" Gina sighed, grunting over at the detective.

"You're all the way over there, you can't see it, don't complain," Jake spoke back to his childhood friend, keeping his eyes on his desk computer in front of him. "Unless," He lifted his eyebrows, turning to the sergeant's desk behind him.

Terry looked guilty as he attempted to eat his yogurt whilst reading a Skyfire book, trying not to get caught. He noticed Jake's glare and came clean. "Okay, fine, I'm the one who wants you to check your damn messages. I'm trying to read this chapter, and that red, obnoxious light is right in the corner of my eyesight." He gritted the last few words.

Jake huffed. "Fine, I'll check my messages." He sighed, rolling his chair to the side, pressing the button to play the voicemails on his desk phone. 

Several messages played, with no speaking in the background, just the sound of muffled what seemed like walking. He looked at the number on the small screen and noticed a familiar name. "Scully, can you please stop butt dialing me?" He asked, immediately turning his chair as if it was a reflex.

The old, needed to be retired, detective looked over at his co-worker. "Sorry, Jakey." He apologized, continuing to add the ointment on his oversized feet.

He listened to the other recordings, surprised by how many there was. He skipped a few, them being ones he had heard on his phone, all from Amy. It always seemed as if she repeated what she said on another voicemail every time. He listened, half anyway, to the few from his bank and insurance company, before stopping and staring at the machine and the new, yet old, message. The entire bullpen became quiet, appearing to listen to the outgoing message, too. The dreaded voice seemed to whisper through the phone, as if not to grab attention on the other side. The cracking sound of breathing against the microphone made him shudder, repeatedly. This is a voice he hadn't heard in years, and a voice he never hoped to hear again. 

As the person on the other side whispered through a threat, along with a date, Jake immediately turned to the calendar next to the framed picture of both Amy and himself on their wedding day that sat in the corner of his desk. He gulped the large lump in his throat as he realized that the date of the threat, was that same date. February 11th. 

Holt left his office and everyone who had stopped working to listen to the message had rushed off to different places, continuing with their work. Jake remained sat at his desk, eyes wide, every so often swallowing the lump in his throat that was hesitant to leave. The captain approached the detective and folded his arms over his chest. "Peralta, what has gotten into you?" The emotionless 'robot' questioned.

Jake looked up at the captain, keeping his eyes wide, and mouth partially open. "I-I've ju- just rec- received a dea-th threat, Captain." Jake croaked with a dry gullet.

"A what?" Holt suddenly looked concerned.

"A death threat, sir." Jake could only whisper, making the captain sit down on the chair next to the desk of New York's finest detective.

The captain, normally with a blunt face, instead stared at the cop with clear worry present on his face. He sprang up at the sound of his office phone ringing loudly from behind the partly closed door.

"Captain, your phone is ringing," Gina pointed out the obvious, keeping her eyes on the small screen of her iPhone in front of her.

"Yes, I know, thank you, Gina," Holt spoke, walking back into his office. 

"Yous welcome," Gina quietly mumbled to herself before smiling and moving her head to the friendly, upbeat achievement tune of the game she was playing, not realizing that the captain was now nowhere near her, so in turn, could not hear her. 

The captain stayed in his office for a moment or two, talking down the phone. He hung up and efficiently moved back into the bullpen, immediately looking over at Jake. "Peralta, my office now," He instructed. Without groaning or showing any sort of reluctance, Jake quickly stood from his desk and rushed into the office. "Sergeant Jeffords, please shut the blinds and transfer the squad in the briefing room, remember to lock the door." He spoke over the bullpen to the sergeant of the Precinct. "Detectives, this is not a drill, we are entering lockdown, follow instructions carefully and respectively, please."

Holt watched the trained cops quickly squabble toward the briefing room for a moment before turning back to the lone detective in his office. He shut the door, pulling down the blinds, switching off the main light and sitting down at his desk, inviting Jake to sit with him.

"What did the death threat you received tell you, Peralta?" Holt inquired.

With a confused and concerned look, Jake slurred his reply. "He just talked about getting revenge and how he knew I worked here, and that he was coming to kill me on February 11th, which I checked, is today." 

"Yes, I am aware." Holt slowly scanned his office. "You do know what this means?" He wondered, eyeing Peralta again.

Jake slowly and doubtfully shook his head. "What captain?"

"If we don't catch this guy, you will have to go into witness protection again, Peralta, to protect your life." 

"Then please tell me you can catch the guy today, I can't live like that again. Florida almost killed me." Jake pleaded.

"I promise, Jake, we will try." He offered him a rare Ray Holt reassuring smile. The captain stood from his chair and walked toward the door, "But for now, stay here, stay safe." 

Jake nodded and watched as the captain left, leaving him in the office alone. He sat in silence, thinking about Amy. He turned the brightness on his phone all the way down and put his phone to his ear, listening to the ringing.

"Jake, what are you doing? We're in lockdown." Amy asked in a whisper.

"Yeah, I know, I'm the reason."

Amy paused for a moment. "How are you the reason?" 

"I didn't get along with someone in prison, it's a long story. To cut it short, I snitched, and he threatened to kill me."

He could hear Amy nod along. "Right, okay then." She sounded doubtful. "So, what are you doing now?" 

"Hiding out in the captain's office, the door's locked from the inside and I'm in pitch blackness... I'm not going to lie, I'm kinda scared." Jake sighed quietly.

They remained on the phone for what felt like hours, both resting in the utter darkness of the separate rooms they were in. They would talk for several minutes, before going quiet again and staying like that for a few beats, and then talk again, duplicating that same method.

Within a silent period between the couple, Jake flinched in his place from the noise of an item being dropped from by his desk. He held his breath as the sound of heavy footprints got nearer and nearer to the locked office door. He found himself uncontrollably shuffling back against the wall under the window that faced out into the bullpen. The blinds were pulled down, he had his phone close, hearing nothing on the other side, Amy could sense something was wrong and refused to talk. He sat, hitching his breath at the back of his throat. The realization hit in when light tapping against the door became heavy banging. 

"Peralta, I know you're in there, how about you come out and say hi," the dreaded voice shouted through the only barricade between life and death, the only barricade he had to stop this crazed criminal from taking his life away in the blink of an eye. 

He sat, knees clenched up by his chest, against the arm of the couch in the office, facing away from the door. He felt his heart rate going a thousand beats a second as the heavy action of his chest was easily visible by his fast-moving legs. He felt his hands trembling as the banging resumed. His eyes were clenched closed, praying that this horror would be over soon. 

As suspected, the glass on the office door didn't hold much longer, shards of glass soaring to the opposite side of the small room. With this, Romero placed his hand through the empty window hole and managed to unlock the door from the inside.

That was it. That was the end. Jake was positive. 

The heavy footprints were knowledgeable with the sound and now vibrations of the bottom hitting the carpeted floor of the office. "Hey, Beef Baby." Jake opened his eyes to his forgotten nickname. He noticed an easily recognizable face glaring down at him, his old greying goatee was now a full-prison beard (ex-prison beard), his hair cascading to his shoulders and scraggly like he had pulled through several hedges backward. 

"Hey, Romero, how have you been... dawg?" Jake croaked.

"Great... dawg." He gave a creepy little smile. "Now I'm gonna kill you." He lifted the knife from under his shirt.

Jake became wide-eyed. "Wow, that kinda fell apart fast." He sighed.

Romero bent down and grabbed Jake's hoodie tightly and yanked him up to his feet. "We're going on a little walk."

Without gaining Romero's attention, Jake quickly shoved his phone in his hoodie pocket. Romero lunged him forward, still holding on to the hood with a grasp tight enough to rip through skin. He forcefully leads him out of the office and through the bullpen, across to the stairs. With the entire building in lockdown, this escape would be easy.

They walked down the stairs to the lobby with Romero graphically explaining how he was going to kill Jake and use different limbs of his corpse for various things. The reached the ground floor and Jeff pushed Jake into the main front door, finding it amusing. 

The street outside the precinct was empty. Was it supposed to be? 

To avoid gaining any suspicious looks, Romero immediately dragged Jake to the side alley next to the precinct. He let go of Jake in front of him and made him turn around. Pulling out a gun, he creepily smiled.

"You have a gun too? What was the knife for?" Jake asked, a panicked look present in his face while his hands began trembling. 

"In case you tried to flee while I dragged you here." Romero reasoned, pulling the gun into place. "Say bye-bye now." He rose it a little more.

"Drop the gun and put your hands on your head!" Amy came around the corner, causing Romero to lunge for Jake, bringing the gun to his head.

"What are you doing here? How did you get out?" Jake wondered.

Amy shook her head. "Jake, we can have this conversation another time." She said, a small smile appearing on her face. 

"So, what do we do now?" Romero asked. He raised one finger. "I know, how about I kill Jake and then you?" He grinned.

Jake took the opportunity, grabbing Romero's hand he had loosed from him, throwing it over his head, spinning him around. A loose bullet rang through the alley as Peralta brought him down to the ground, sitting on his back and grabbing his gun from Romero's other hand. As he looked up, he noticed that the sound of the loose bullet didn't end up being loose at all. 

"Ames!" He yelled, pouncing off Romero's back to his wife's aid.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, just what my brain came up with late at night after just having watched 'The Big House'. Don't really know what this really was, to be honest, just kept writing without looking through it too much.
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, it keeps a writer going! :)


End file.
